This is a found poem taken from Flowers in the Attic
by V.C. Andrews.
from the room cuts ache and spring me
until tears and wonderful newborn garden
who was I until pain began living
I flung twin aches to myself
the rubbing cried the heart for hurt he alive
cried worse there the oceans tore from moon down
the mother down a heard chance made footsteps
into swollen tears and red fists
that experienced many old eyes how I blood soft
beat back house of fragrances
coming of millions with my breezes come out horned stars
then flung my sweet all over
